


Off Track

by Zavijah



Category: Apex Legends (Video Games)
Genre: Aborted handjob, Angst, Bittersweet, Cryptageweek, Heartache, M/M, Pining, Secret Relationship, season 6
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-28
Updated: 2020-09-28
Packaged: 2021-03-08 03:53:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,787
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26699338
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zavijah/pseuds/Zavijah
Summary: It was just the two of them. They’d lost their third, Caustic, early on in an accident that didn’t look all that much like an accident from where Elliott had been standing. But, well, Elliott knew better than to confront Crypto about it. Personal business, or vendettas, were not acceptable topics of discussion between them. Not that they talked much. Sometimes Elliott babbled on random topics and Crypto hummed like he was actually half listening, but most of their conversations were strictly physical. Skin against skin, an exchange of hungry mouths and greedy hands.Written for #Cryptageweek | 2020 | Day 1: Train
Relationships: Crypto | Park Tae Joon/Mirage | Elliott Witt
Comments: 20
Kudos: 63





	Off Track

When Elliott had been a kid, playing on the train tracks had been the highlight of numerous, boring afternoons. His mother would disagree but, back then, he’d seen nothing but adventure, risk, and a connection to a world so much bigger and exciting than his cozy family life. It’d been a game — a very stupid game — to lay under the tracks as the train blurred passed. And as it shook the ground, Elliott had laid there, grinning ear to ear, living in that single moment of wondrous awe.

Such carefree days were gone, as were many other things, but the tracks remained. The risk they presented had changed. Significantly. It no longer excited Elliott to walk along the tracks. Head on a swivel and clutching a rifle, he felt like a fish in a sniper’s barrel and wished Crypto had chosen a different route.

Crypto walked behind him, hands busy with the cube that controlled the drone he was using to scout the path ahead. His attention was on the transparent screen projecting in front of eyes but he was aware enough, peripherally, to follow Elliott’s lead.

It was tempting to crash Crypto into one of the abandoned train cars littering the track, or steer him off the edge, if only to break the tension. It’d be worth the laugh and the cut of Crypto’s annoyance because anything was better than the soul-crushing silence. Elliott hated the quiet. It was like a still pond’s mirror-like surface, offering so much to reflect on; everything that was, everything that is, everything that could be, and he hated it.

And he hated being on the tracks.

The tracks curved toward the cliffs and the prospect of having cover for their backs eased the tension in Elliott’s shoulders, but only for a moment, because as soon as Crypto closed the link with his drone, the tension torqued back up to max. Before there had been a convenient excuse for the lack of conversation, now the silence squeezed at Elliott and he could feel the ramblings stirring on his tongue, eager to dispel the encroaching, brooding mood.

When Crypto had first joined the games, he’d been quiet. It was a wary, distrustful kind of quiet. After a couple seasons, the ice had thawed, some what, but it’d all changed after the whole fiasco with Loba. Now the quiet was angry. It was hurt. And it felt like Crypto was never going to risk lowering his guard ever again.

Elliott shook his head of the melancholy, again hating the silence for stirring up the dust and uncovering the pain better left buried.

The tracks led into a cavern that cut through the cliffs. Crypto’s drone hovered near the ceiling smoothed by machines. Small lights ran along the tracks, online despite the train’s decommissioned status, and they threw an eerie glow over the metal husks sitting off the side of the tracks. Train cars, a dozen or more, were jammed together in the darkest nooks of the cavern; toppled, stacked, huddled together like lost, shivering kittens.

“They look so sad,” Elliott said aloud.

“Sad?” Crypto echoed as if he didn’t know the word.

A hand clutched around Elliott’s heart, making it flutter like a trapped bird. He hadn’t meant to say it out loud, but since he had Crypto’s attention, he rolled with it, gesturing to the abandoned train cars. “Don’t you think they look sad?”

A pinch formed between Crypto’s brows as he obliged the motion with a glance. “They don’t look like anything. They’re trains.”

Elliott sighed, “Thanks, Captain Obvious.”

It was just the two of them. They’d lost their third, Caustic, early on in an accident that didn’t look all that much like an accident from where Elliott had been standing. But, well, Elliott knew better than to confront Crypto about it. Personal business, or vendettas, were not acceptable topics of discussion between them. Not that they talked much. Sometimes Elliott babbled on random topics and Crypto hummed like he was actually half listening, but most of their conversations were strictly physical. Skin against skin, an exchange of hungry mouths and greedy hands.

The relationship they had, if Elliott could even call it that, was odd. At least it was odd by his standards, for all he knew it was completely normal for Crypto. Elliott didn’t press for a definition. The small bit of trust he’d earned with Crypto was like spring ice under his feet; a single misstep would end it. Elliott didn’t want to lose it — whatever _it_ was — so he never pushed and he never asked. He only accepted what little was given to him: late night visits, angry kisses, a manic stress Crypto carried on the inside that could only be eased by fucking it out.

Elliott wasn’t complaining. Not really. It would have been nice if Crypto would _talk_ to him. And it’d be nice to know what they were to each other. Boyfriends? Lovers? Friends with Benefits?

Were they even friends?

Whatever, he was probably over thinking it, like the trains. The poor, sad trains that looked like toys kicked aside by a bored child.

Elliott slung his rifle over his shoulder, not worried about hostiles when Crypto’s drone had an aerial view of both ends of the tunnel. He waded into the train graveyard; one part to find supplies and three parts to avoid saying something he’d later regret only after it had shattered the unstable ground between them.

He ran a hand along the cold, metal husk, overcome with the urge to comfort the mechanical beasts. It was silly. They were just trains. Yet, as Elliott climbed on top of one car to survey the extent of the heap, a knot formed in his chest and hung like an anchor from his heart. His gaze strayed to where Crypto stood, hands deep in his pockets and looking as bored as ever, and the sinking knot grew heavier.

His mouth was moving before he could think better of it. Like the dish and the spoon, his mouth had a habit of running away with his nerves in moments of uncertainty and, at the moment, he was so very unsure about everything. “I don’t remember there being this many train cars, do you?”

Crypto spared him little more than a dismissive glance.

“Where did they all come from and why are they here?” Elliott braved on, grasping for the straw that would be Crypto’s attention. “The track is fine — everyone loved the train!” If he meant to make a point with the statement, it eluded even him. “Do you think they scraped them for parts to build that ship?”

It was bizarre to have returned after an off season to exchange gunfire and grenades around the base of a real fucking space ship. It’d sprung up like a weed, just there one day, like Hammond Robotics had scraped the surrounding land for resources to construct the marvel then tossed aside any unused pieces. Shoved them into dark corners. Elliott frowned at the train cars. Out of sight, out of mind, like none of it ever mattered.

“Where do you think they’re sending that ship?” He asked.

Crypto looked aside, a telling sign. He knew, but he wasn’t going to share. Yet another secret. Yet another thing Elliott was starting to hate. It was hard enough to get a conversation going without one of the unmarked secrets popping up as a barricade and shutting down the whole verbal avenue.

Elliott puffed out a breath, then attempted to circumvent the topic that was marked ‘off limits’. “I hope they don’t want us to ride in it.”

“Scared?”

The faint, teasing inflection in Crypto’s voice was a fresh breeze through a stuffy room. It eased the tension in Elliott’s shoulders but intensified the yearning in his heart. Elliott scoffed and neatly slid off the train roof. He put every ounce of confidence into the swagger he used to close the distance between them. “Do I look scared?”

He loved every fraction of a second it took for Crypto’s eyes to sweep over him and the way his lips quirked — there and gone so quick Elliott would have missed it if he hadn’t known to watch for it. If he hadn’t spent months obsessing over every micro-expression hinting at the truth under Crypto’s impassive mask. He’d memorized every absent-minded habit, small inflection of tone, and mischievous glint of dark eyes. Elliott knew so much and yet, at the same time, nothing. He wanted to know more, to know everything, but Crypto was wary, like an abused animal, and trust didn’t come quick and was lost twice as fast. Trying to hold on to Cypto, to pin him down and understand him, would only send him running.

Crypto tilted his head away, but watched Elliott from the corners of his eyes. “A little.”

“And rightfully so!” Elliott circled him, vying to catch his eyes fully, but also kept an arm’s length away. “Did you hear the part where I said it might be built from spare train parts?”

“You’ll still go.”

It was a jab, a friendly needling, but the truth of it cut deeper than expected. Elliott’s grin slipped and the quiet crept in, peeling back the layer of witticism and revealing the tired eyes looking back at him from pond’s still surface. If the higher ups told him to head to a new planet, to up and leave his life and mother, he would, because even though it was the last thing he wanted to do, he needed the money. There was never enough money, and the investments he’d bought into with hopes of climbing out of Syndicate’s pockets had only sent him falling deeper into them. They owned him and they knew it. He knew it. Crypto knew it.

“That’s me, a grade-A company man.” Elliott shrugged, the cheer in his voice as empty and gutted as the discarded train cars. “They say ‘Jump’, I ask ‘How high?’. They say ‘Get on the rickety space ship that might blow up’ and I ask, ‘Which seat's mine?’.”

He grinned, though it hurt to do so, it was his armor. He rolled with the punches and let spiteful words slide off him like water off a duck’s back. It helped to get by, but it didn’t make him invulnerable. It didn’t mean he didn’t take off the armor when he was alone and prod at the bruises underneath. Normally he could bounce back, brush of his shoulders and and carry on, but today his heart was heavy and the damn trains were just so fucking sad.

Crypto was peering at him, his eyes dark and intense, and Elliott realized that the crack in his facade was showing. Crypto had a way of not only reading between the lines, but also lifting up the rug to see what had been swept underneath. Elliott pivoted away, in no mood to be analyzed when his chest was a series of awkward, painful knots.

The map on Elliott’s arm showed that they were still in the safe zone and Crypto’s drone had yet to pick up on any hostiles. A shame, the distraction of running for his life would have been nice. The quiet was growing again. Elliott bade it back by rifling through the stack of magazines left spilled across the train floor. He thumbed through the pages even as he heard the quiet scuff of Crypto’s boots behind him.

“Why do you think the trains look sad?” Crypto asked, his tone low and unsure.

It was an olive branch, an awkward twig held out with downcast eyes because Crypto knew something was wrong, wanted to fix it, but he didn’t have the right tools in his kit to mend things, so he feigned interest in the stupid trains.

Elliott stared at the magazine, unable to focus enough to read the words when his thoughts were wailing on him like hard rain lashing against a window. He turned the page. It was an old magazine, old enough to feature an article about Crypto’s introduction to the Legend roster.

A wry smile curled at the corner of Elliott’s lips. “Because this is where it all started, isn’t it?”

“What do you mean?” Crypto stood, one shoulder pressed to the doorway, a foot halfway out the door, and the distance between them as stark as ever.

Did he really not remember?

Oh, sure, technically they had met on the drop ship just before a match, and Elliott had less than pleasant feelings toward the guy that looked one second away from plunging a dagger into his gut. Elliott had been annoyed — getting his arm nearly broken before a match tended to leave a bad impression — but he’d also been intrigued and couldn’t stop himself from prodding further at Crypto's cool demeanor. Like tugging the tail of a tiger, it’d been such a thrill and damn if Crypto wasn’t the most beautiful thing to watch. Calm and sleek, graceful and deadly.

And then Crypto had started to tease back.

He had played along and Elliott couldn’t remember the last time anyone but Renee had humored his antics.

By the time Crypto winked at him, on that damn train, a second before nearly burning a hole through his chest with a charge rifle, Elliott knew he was utterly fucked. Knew it the moment he recognized the stirring in his heart, the hunger in his gut, and the spool of heat in his groin. And when, a season later, Crypto had come to him, angry and on the cusp of a break down, and pulled him into a kiss that was more teeth than lips, Elliott had given him everything, knowing he’d never get back his heart. He’d always been reckless with love, falling so hard and fast he ended up bruised.

He didn’t even know Crypto’s real name, another blockade lined with little red flags he foolishly stepped around, again and again.

Elliott tossed the magazine onto the seat. “Do you really not have any fond memories about the train?”

The question was cast out, fishing for hope to give his aching heart. He needed to know whether or not Crypto thought about him, about them, in terms not shucked aside as ‘occasional fuck buddies’. The persisting silence squeezed Elliott’s heart. An ex of his had once called him suffocating. Clingy. Needy. A flaw Elliott didn’t know how to correct because even though he did his best to keep his words and hands to himself, the yearning never went away.

Crypto picked at a screw in the doorway. “I do.”

“Then—” It wasn’t enough. Elliott snapped an arm at the graveyard surrounding them. “Doesn’t it make you sad to see them tossed aside and forgotten?”

The outburst startled Crypto. His eyes widened and he took a moment to look at the train cars. Then the gears of thought turned, quick and efficient, and his expression smooth back into a calm mask. “This isn’t about the train, is it.”

The bottom fell out of Elliott’s stomach. He crossed his arms over it and leaned against the wall while his heart rattled against his ribs. “What do you mean? Of course it’s about the train. Look at it! We’re surrounded by train cars! They’re so sad and w-why wouldn’t it be about the train?”

Crypto’s eyes were dark, vast like a starry sky, beautiful yet frightfully cold and painfully out of reach. He stepped forward, slow and calculating, and Elliott could feel his rabbit heartbeat thumping in the tips of his ears. Another step and his jump suit felt too hot and scratchy at the hems. The nearer Crypto got, the more helpless and stupid Elliott felt. His body was already responding to the dwindling space, his fingers itched to grab while a craving heat coiled low in his belly.

“I’ve neglected you,” Crypto stated, so offhandedly, as if he had forgotten to put bird seed in the feeder.

A whine sounded deep in Elliott’s chest and he bit down on the inside of his cheek to keep it there. He flexed his hands, waiting, as always, for Crypto to be the one to step over the line. While Elliott struggled to keep his body under control, his thoughts flew wildly beyond it. He found himself staring at Crypto’s mouth and remembering the nights of having it soft against his ear. How the deep pitch of Crypto’s voice, breathless and panting careless slips in his native tongue, had shot straight to his cock.

“Why didn’t you say something?” Crypto asked, as if it was that easy to do.

Elliott yielded to the fingers pushing him flat against the wall. The stock of his rifle bit into his shoulder blade, but the discomfort was secondary to the parched heat aching beneath every inch of skin, begging for the sky to open up and give him a taste of rain.

“I didn’t—” His tongue felt so thick and clumsy, swelling with emotion surging from his heart. _I didn’t want to end up pushing you away. I didn’t want to sound needy. I didn’t want to lose you._ Elliott swallowed the words down and managed a quiet chuckle and a weak grin. “What’s a good way to say ‘I need you’?”

Crypto shrugged. “That works.”

Then he smiled; it was small, more amused than fond, and it stuck into Elliott’s heart like a barbed arrow.

The kiss that followed was soft, lingering, and filled with all the unspoken love Elliott desperately craved. He closed his eyes and savored it, not knowing when he’d get another and he kissed back like it would be the last one they shared. The future was murky and Elliott never knew when the ice might break and he’d plunge into the cold, dark waters.

Crypto groped him through the pants and Elliott jumped. The locks flew off his restraint and he cupped the back of Crypto’s head, his fingers raking along the short hairs of his undercut, and deepened the kiss. He was so hard from so little attention that it was embarrassing. But Crypto didn’t tease, he popped the button of Elliott’s pants and slid a hand right down to the main event.

Elliott trembled, melting like butter in Crypto’s hand, and rocked into the touch. Then he remembered where they were and broke the kiss so abruptly the back of his head smacked against the train wall. “H-here?”

“Won’t take long.” Crypto emphasized the knowing statement with a pointed squeeze of hand.

With how pent up he felt, Elliott agreed. He pushed down the band of his pants to give Crypto better access. They were deep in a cavern, tucked under a pile of discarded trains, with Crypto’s drone keeping surveillance. Elliott didn’t hold back on the groan spilling out of him. It’d been so long — too long.

“I need you,” he murmured against Crypto’s temple. Need was easier to understand than love. It made things physical and didn’t get wrapped up with the intangible vines of his seeking heart. Need made things between them just fucking and didn’t upset the cracked ground under their feet.

The strokes of Crypto’s hand were rough, but it matched the burn in Elliott’s heart.

“Let me—” Elliott arched, his breath catching and stuttering. His mouth fished for words while his fingers groped at Crypto’s shoulders. “I wanna—”

“No time,” Crypto argued, his breath a hot puff against Elliott’s flushed neck.

Elliott seized a handful of Crypto’s ass and brought their hips together. “Let’s ring out.”

“Stats,” Crypto growled, still arguing, but moved his hand to better slot them together. Hard against hard in a slow, mindless dance of grinding hips.

“I don’t care.” Elliott head spun, dizzy from want.

“Yes you do.”

Crypto was right — always so fucking right. Higher game stats meant more money and fuck Elliott needed the money. He was selling pieces of his soul every other day just to make ends meet. His fingers dug into Crypto’s bulky coat. “Want you more.”

The steely resolve slipped, reducing Crypto’s reply to a soft plea. “Later.”

“ _Now._ ”

Crypto went still and Elliott instantly dropped his arms, worried he had pushed things too far. Their hips were still locked together, his cock pulsing in protest, but neither of them moved. Crypto’s head was turned, ear tilted up, listening. Elliott strained to hear anything beyond his own pounding heart and heavy exhales.

“Someone’s coming,” Crypto said.

The neurolink Crypto shared with his drone made it hard to argue, but Elliott couldn’t think straight. He made a strangled noise as Crypto tucked him away, back to business while Elliott felt too drunk to stand from the wall. He caught the open ends of Crypto’s jacket. The ache must have shown on his face because Crypto paused mid buttoning to read his expression.

Then he smirked and leaned in to nuzzle Elliott’s cheek. “Your room. Tonight."

“Are we friends?” Elliott blurted.

“ _Mwo_?” Crypto blinked, slowly, and cast a nervous glance over his shoulder at the footsteps echoing off the cavern walls.

“Nothing. It’s—” Elliott shook his head, his cheeks burning, and swung his rifle off his back. “It’s nothing.”

Crypto shoved him back against the wall, his eyes sharp and his words fiery. “Do you normally do this with _friends_?”

“No — god, no.” Well, there had been a couple of incidents in the past, after a few drinks and when he’d been feeling particularly unloved, but there had been no one ever since the first time Crypto sought him out.

“Then?” Crypto prompted.

So, they either weren’t friends, or they were more than friends with benefits. Elliott honestly didn’t know. He nodded, confused, but knowing it was a bad time to nitpick over the details. Crypto seemed satisfied with the response, more sure of ground they shared. Not that it mattered, Elliott thought with a rueful smile, because he knew he’d always been there whenever Crypto needed him — wanted him. His love knew no cliff too high to throw itself from.

Crypto turned away, but paused mid-step to toss Elliott a last, playful look. “Maybe now the trains won’t make you sad.”

Elliott grimaced. “Now I’ll be thinking about that ‘one time I got blue-balled on the train’.”

The sound of Crypto’s soft chuckle renewed the ache in his heart. Maybe, tonight, Crypto would stay — would let Elliott hold him through the night. Maybe. Elliott's mouth stretched further into the painful smile. Maybe, one day, Crypto would let the walls down and let Elliott love him, wholly and completely. But, until that day, Elliott would take those small moments of bittersweetness and use them to soothe his bruised heart.

**Author's Note:**

> New to the fandom! I've been working on a multi-chapter fic for this pairing, then I saw the Cryptageweek prompt week on twitter and thought this might be a good chance to dip my toes in, say hi, and make some friends?
> 
> You can find me on [@ZavijahWrites](https://twitter.com/zavijahwrites) where I post my updates and what I'm working on ~ feel free to leave a comment. I'm super nervous posting to a new fandom *_*;;


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